Visit to Chic-Fil-A
I became the proud owner of The Wife's pickles. Most times I would just eat them like some maniac contestent on Fear Factor. But today was different. I decided to put them on my chicken sandwich. Usually, I raise the top bun to ad mayo. But this time, I was adding extra pickle, so I decided to lift off the lower bun. That's when I saw it. Laying on my chicken like teenager laying on the couch during summer break. It did not move...it just laid there...and I bet my eyes bugged out like Marty Feldman's as he played Igor in Young Frankenstien. It was a WHITE HAIR about 2 inches long! Heck, feathers I may could understand, but a hair of unknown origin...nasty. Did I make someone mad?
If I'm at home, I pluck the hair and go one eating. Heck, I eaten stuff that has been dropped on the floor. I even lick a sucker that Little One had dropped on the floor...did I mention we have two dogs that are shedding?
But, at a national eatery, I did what every man in my situation would do. I sent The Wife back to the counter to complain. And it worked. The manager said I could have a free dessert. Music to my ears. I spent lunch thing about dessert.
Time for the big decision and I went with a hand spun chocolate milkshake. And a fine choice it was. We, it was a community shake of course, liked it so much that we had another a couple of days later. I believe the manager thought I would go for pie or a brownie, something cheap. But their ad campaign worked and I went for the $2.79 delight.